


Vulnerability

by Destinee Zara (LadyDestineeZara)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: All characters (except Pidge) are 18+ unless told otherwise, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, F/M, Naked Cuddling, No sex (unfortunatelly), The other paladins are only mentioned, There is no side pairings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-28
Updated: 2016-08-28
Packaged: 2018-08-11 11:36:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7890205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyDestineeZara/pseuds/Destinee%20Zara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Queen and her beloved Paladin.<br/>A Paladin and his beloved Queen.<br/>Breaking down together…<br/>…and sticking together.<br/>No matter what.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vulnerability

**Author's Note:**

> THIS STORY IS UNEDITED! So, pardon any English mistakes (let me know if you find any). Also, Engrishi is not my first language, so forgive my mistakes if I don’t Engrishi well.
> 
> Just one little note before you start reading:  
> \- [text after dashes] = TALKING (A Romance Language custom, I guess)  
> "[Text]" = THOUGHTS
> 
> Now, to the story!

\- The old king is dead! Long live the Queen! – Royal advisor Coran proclaimed in front of the crowd – Long live Queen Allura, the first of her name.

The people around the sacred coronation podium were already booing when the advisor stood there. Now the sound had just increased by ten times. They all screamed slurs and offences at the newly crowned queen.

Allura didn’t let that put her down. She kept her head held high and determination on her eyes. The queen had a speech ready on her mind in case she was welcomed by the people, but apparently, it would be best to keep her mouth shut.

Coran looked at her with a merciful stare.

\- You don’t have to do that. You can just enter your carriage and go home. – he whispered to her with a great amount of urgency and worry.

Allura smiled at him (he was always so gracious with the princess, now queen).

\- Thank you, Coran, but this is something that I have to do.

He sighed, but nodded.

\- Very well, Your Majesty.

It was weird to hear those words coming from his mouth towards her, but Allura needed to put aside any strangeness or anger that she might feel.

She needed to win her people hearts again and she had a war to fight.

Coran was behind her, just like a proper advisor, when she started the Walk.

King Alfor, the sixth of his name, had ruled the Kingdom of Altea with strong will, but a gentle touch. He had been a beloved king to his subjects and a lovingly father to the little princess Allura. Life had been good, and Altea under King Alfor had been a powerful and prosperous realm.

That until the Galra Empire attacked.

The Galra Emperor, Zarkon, had started to expand his cruel Kingdom (now an Empire) towards the peaceful nations around him, including Altea. They seemed to be unstoppable, with their large army and dark magic.

Alfor was the first one to strongly oppose the Galra Empire and win. He was also the first one to propose a creation of a union between the free realms, the Voltron Alliance. Also, King Alfor was the one that created the Voltron Lions Paladins, a group with the very best warriors of Altea and the associate Kingdoms to protect the Royal families against any imminent attack.

In every battle, he and the armies he was leading were successful.

The tide seemed to be changing in favour of Altea and the Voltron Alliance.

However, even if he was strong leader, King Alfor was still mortal and still had blind spots.

He was tricked into a meeting with one of his “allies” and then he was betrayed. King Alfor was captured by the Galra Empire and killed by Emperor Zarkon himself.

With Alfor deceased, the throne of Altea and the duty to save all the Realms on the Voltron Alliance now rested on the dead King’s only heir: princess Allura, now Queen Allura.

Immediately, people started to question if the “feeble” princess would be capable to fulfil her father’s place. If the “delicate” damsel would know how to lead a Kingdom or to command (and win) a war.

Allura remembered still grieving her father when he heard that.

In the beginning she was devastated.

Couldn’t her own people see that she was more than just some frail and ninny lady? Didn’t they remember that her father had trained her himself, that she had studied every strategy among with him and that some of the campaigns were win due to her ideas?

But looking at her people now from the top of the sacred coronation podium, she was more positive than ever that they couldn’t see more than a delicate woman in a pretty blue dress.

Anger flickered inside her.

“I should have put my full armour” she thought bitterly.

If devastation was her first feeling, fury and determination were the close second ones.

Allura had her mind set in proving herself as a dutiful and strong Queen.

Also, she would cut Zarkon’s head out herself.

She took a deep breath and stilled her heart.

She didn’t have the luxury of break and crack (at least not for now).

“If I look back, I am lost…”

Therefore, Queen Allura let her heart be filled with that anger, that thirst for revenger and that determination and started the Walk.

Whenever a King or Queen was crowned in Altea, they needed to walk from the coronation podium (near the High Temple) to the Lion’s Castle. It was a tradition that started from the very first king of Altea, Alfor, the first of his name, a thousand years earlier. It was a way to be in touch with their people and to present themselves. The main street of the Capital would be used for that walk, what usually had an open corridor on the left to the monarch walk and people would stay on the right side to watch, usually throwing flowers at the new King or Queen.

Allura really doubted that any of her subjects would throw flowers.

With her head held high, she started walking graciously toward the Castle.

The people booed even strongly, and if wasn’t for the guards keeping the distance, the Alteans would probably lynch Allura.

She was guilty of not being her father.

Guilty of being a woman.

Guilty for having to deal with a war.

Allura’s heart felt like nothing was fair, but she refused to be consumed by that thought.

Fury kept her going, imagining stepping on the heads of the Galra soldiers.

“If I look back, I am lost…”

The poets would say later that Queen Allura, the first of her name, walked with the elegance of a real Altean Queen, even when facing the wrath and grief of her own people.

However, now it only seemed like she was made of ice.

An Ice Queen.

Every step was heavier than the last. She never felt so alone in her whole life, but she refused to give in, moved by spite.

“If I look back, I am lost…”

A person lost in the crowd called her a bitch and threw a tomato on her direction. They missed, but that was just the beginning. The first sign to people start throwing eggs, tomatoes and other nasty things on her directions.

Allura frowned.

She was expecting that.

But it still hurt.

A new pain for all the one she was already carrying on her shoulders.

The crown seemed to height a ton.

Against all odds, she kept walking.

She was almost there. It was already possible to see the main gates of the Lion’s Castle.

With her peripheral vision, she could see an egg flying on her direction. An egg that would reach its mark.

Queen Allura braced herself for the impact and the humiliation, but those never came.

Instead, a knight had blocked it with his shield.

He was not a common knight. His armour was flawlessly silver with magic lacing through the metal, and the details were in obsidian black. His cape was also black, and he used it to protect Allura’s back with his right arm, while the left kept the shield raised to defend her.

The Voltron Black Paladin, Takashi Shirogane, although he preferred to be called only Shiro.

Allura felt like she could breathe again.

She touched his left arm gently, urging him to stay.

Not that Shiro needed any invitation to do just that, but he was a humble and loyal to his princess, now his queen.

The five Altean Voltron Paladins were there helping during the coronation process. They were in charge of keeping the security from a distance. Shiro had just broken at least ten rules and protocols just by standing by her side.

\- You shouldn’t be here. – she said regally, her hand still on his arm.

Allura couls see though the small opening on his helmet that he was smiling.

\- I’m sorry, Your Majesty. I just had to.

She wished she could ran her fingers through that smile and cherish it, saving on her memory for a raining day.

Shiro didn’t smiled that much anymore.

He was one of the most positive, humble and strong people she had known. An astounding fighter, a remarkable strategist and a good man. He was one of the very best Altean knights even before the beginning of the Galra war. It was no surprise at all when the Magical powers that King Alfor used to create the paladins swords chose Shiro as the Black Lion, the leader of the elite warriors of Altea. He was gentle, strong, charismatic and loyal.

How not to fall in love with him?

That probably was one of the very few times that Allura had had an argument with her father. She loved her dad sincerely, but sometimes he was just too stubborn in some silly traditions. For example, wanting her to marry only with another royal. And Shiro might be an honoured Knight, but he was no prince.

The King had sent the Black paladin on mission after mission before the war just to keep him away from his daughter. When the war started, it was a campaign after another because he was one of the very best that the Voltron Alliance had.

Alfor’s plan backfired epically when they started to exchange letters instead.

Hawks initially carried those letters during peaceful times, but during the war it was really difficult to keep the birds from being intercepted. So they started to rely on Shiro’s best friend, the Red Paladin, Keith, to take the letters back and forth (Keith was a tad inpatient and would always complain “Just elope already!”, but he would dutifully and happily deliver letter after letter).

Their romance bloomed in words and in the few secret rendezvous that they could muster. Gentle kissed stolen between an event or another or the occasional secret escapade night spent together. All that made Allura wonder if she should follow Keith’s grumpy advice and elope.

 Shiro was summoned to the Castle one last time by King Alfor to escort the king to meet his allies. Allura remembered kissing his carefree smile one last time before the departure.

Before King Alfor and his entourage were captured by the Galra Empire.

After months of untold torture, Shiro was the only one to escape.

His hair had gone grey and white.

His body was covered in scars.

His right arm was cursed.

The Obsidian Sword was lost.

Shiro’s smile was amiss.

Another thing that Zarkon had taken from her.

There were tales that he was forced to fight for his life and that he was called “Champion” for being vicious. That, more than anything, probably was what broke his spirit to the point it was now.

Shiro was the one that announced King Alfor’s death (until now, Emperor Zarkon had been playing with them, pretending the Altean King was still alive to claim benefits).

He couldn’t even face Allura.

She enjoyed the touch on his arm and his hand (even if his cold metal cursed hand) on her shoulder.

\- We must keep going. – she said, still on the same regal tone.

Shiro nodded.

\- As you wish, my Queen.

She felt a shiver ran down her spine with him saying “my Queen” so earnestly and with the candid touches they were sharing.

She was needy for his touch and she had no shame in admitting it to world and to herself. What was the point in denying that she loved and wanted him? Allura refused to bow herself to the world and marry only for the sake of her Kingdom. She was a Queen, and as a Queen, she was allowed a few selfish choices.

Shiro was one of those choices that she refused to let go.

They walked side by side, he acting like her personal shield.

She felt safe for the first time since her father’s (and Shiro’s) departure. Allura was sure that he wouldn’t let anything touch her.

And he felt relieved that they were touching each other.

As if at least something was still right in her life.

The gates of the palace closed as soon as the last adviser walked in. People kept throwing stuff and screaming, so they walked fast through the gardens until the security of the inside.

Now that she could look to her behind, she noticed that the other paladins, Keith, Lance, Hunk and Pidge, had protected the advisors.

Shiro seemed like he wanted to pull back, but Allura held in place gently by his arm.

He stared at her quiet order to stay and obeyed.

She looked at all the others.

\- I thank all of you for your services today. Now the sun is almost set. We should rest. Coran, tomorrow morning I want a meeting with all my generals and paladins.

They all answered with a respectful “Yes, my queen”.

Queen Allura turned to Paladin Shirogane.

\- Black Paladin, please follow me.

He bowed his head.

\- As you wish, my queen.

She leaded him to her bedroom with her heart heavy due to conflicted emotions, rage being the most prominent.

Rage against her situation.

Rage against her loss.

Rage against Zarkon and all the Glara Empire.

Some of that wrath probably was showing in her face, for he candidly touched her hand, holding it softly.

Shiro barely touched her since he came back from his captivity, so that single hold handing made her sigh with even more emotions (good ones).

Alone on her room, she ordered him:

\- Take off your helmet.

Slowly, but obediently, Shiro took off his headpiece.

His hair had a white patch on the front, and was grey on most parts. It had faired from pain and suffering. Too much stress for anyone to handle.

A scar, angrily red, marred his face, from one cheek to another, cutting deep into his nose.

His eyes were so grave nowadays… but they still were brownish soft on that moment while looking at her.

Allura nodded.

\- Take off your cape and armour.

With some difficulty, he obeyed. Each metal piece was discarded on the room floor. Shiro was left only with his mail and his clothes.

\- The mail. – she ordered.

He obeyed dutifully, standing in front of her barefoot wearing only a white long sleeve shirt and brown pants.

His eyes were getting scared. His lips trembled as if he wanted to say something, as if he wanted to object. With each piece of armour that he took, he seemed to become more vulnerable. His eyes would dart around the room, as if expecting a foe to attack or to laugh at him. His posture was tenser, and he was trying to hide his cursed arm behind his back. But he kept staring at her in a loyal way and kept his face with a determinate expression.

That didn’t stopped Allura.

\- Your clothes.

That order broke him. He couldn’t keep the straight face anymore.

\- Princess Allura, please…

She glared and answered with anger.

\- I’m not your princess. I’m your Queen. Take. Them. Off.

Shiro clenched his fists for one moment before answering.

\- Yes, Your Majesty.

He complied to the command with a pale face and a tense posture. Slowly, he took his shirt, revealing angry and unfair scar everywhere in his torso and his cursed arm (made of dark metal and that answered to his commands to destroy). He took his pants equally slowly, revealing scars on his legs. His dick and balls were normal, just as Allura remembered, but by the way he was trying to cover himself, she didn’t know if that was a good or a bad thing.

The Shiro from before the abduction was not ashamed of his body. He was comfortable on his own skin just as a lion would be with theirs: naturally and royally. A king with a natural crown. He wouldn’t cover from her, if anything, he would make sure that _she_ was comfortable into showing herself to him. He would reveal himself to her with a lazy laugh and a “As you wish, my princess” at the tip of his tongue.

Now he cowered before her.

His eyes avoided hers like a plague. His shoulders were tense and curved with shame. His expression was miserable.

Allura nodded at him before taking the crown from her head and tossing it unceremoniously (she didn’t even cared to see where).

The sound of the metal hitting the floor startled him and she wanted to laugh fraughtly of all that mad situation.

The next thing were her jewellery, thrown around just as carelessly as the crown.

Then it was her beautiful blue dress, that she almost tore to pieces just to get rid of it.

She felt like she was an animal caged in satin.

Shiro once had compared her to a lioness.

\- Everybody always says that the lion is the King of the Jungle. – he had said while caressing the small of her back – But it is the Queen who always held the biggest power. A lion would starve without the lioness, and she, - he had chuckled – she likes to keep him around for reasons.

He had moved his eyebrows suggestively and she had laughed, slapping his shoulder half-heartedly.

Back there they had intimacy and a carefree romance.

Allura wasn’t sure if they still have anything at all on that moment.

The dress was tossed to the floor and she was tearing her corset and petticoat while almost screaming in frustration. But no matter how much and how angry she pulled, the clothes seemed to stay on her with a vicelike grip. In her impatience to undress, she didn’t had unfastened the knots and laces that kept the clothes on.

She only stopped when she felt his hands on top of hers.

Their eyes met.

He was there to serve her. As always.

His hands gently and patiently unfastened the laces that were making her prisoner. He didn’t finished taking her clothes off, just like she didn’t when he was taking his. Shiro just stared at her with pleading in his eyes and lips.

\- Please…

How ironic. While she barked cruel orders, he mumbled gentle pleas.

With the same anger as before, she pulled all her underdress clothes and threw them on the floor with wrath.

She panted, her dark skin bared to him and her fair hair falling behind her like a tangled and furious waterfall.

Their eyes met each other. All her anger and all his shame.

Her pain and his pain.

Their pain.

Could a shared vulnerability be considered intimacy? Could it be confused as such?

Allura didn’t know.

All she knew was that suddenly there was no more barriers between hers and his suffering. When their eyes met (his soft brown and hers blue pinkish), they shared a link that broke that wall that war and loss had built.

Their eyes watered and they met halfway.

She cried, sobered, and hit his chest with her fists.

He cried quietly, holding his sobs and taking everything of her.

When her anger died down, she cried into his chest while he cried into her shoulder.

They sink into the floor, like a boat lost into the storm. Uncontrollable and drifting into unknown waters.

Two hurt and vulnerable souls holding into each other.

And they wouldn’t let go.

They would end up candidly sleeping on the floor that night, too afraid to be apart.

Talking would come later. At first in scared or frustrated tones, clumsily and hurting more than helping. But then they would find their sync again. A sync not like the youthful and carefree from before, but deeper and gentler, like a warm kiss in the middle of winter. Partners holding hands in the darkest night while walking a difficult path. Soon, they would get there.

They would never sleep apart, even with his new nightmares and her new insomnia. Neither would care for what anyone said, for they were both stubborn and in a dire need for each other to mind some pointless gossip.

Lovemaking would come a lot later, but it would come, when her anger dried off a bit and his shame crumbled at least for a while, leaving their hearts free for tenderness and love. (Fucking just for the pleasure of it would come just long after the war was over).

But for now they had only pain, vulnerability and each other’s arms.

For now, they were a mess. A hated queen full of rage and a disgraced paladin full of shame.

A Queen and her beloved Paladin.

A Paladin and his beloved Queen.

Breaking down together…

…and sticking together.

No matter what.

**Author's Note:**

> Making off of this fanfic:
> 
> Hi there!  
> This is my second Voltron fanfic and my first Shallura one (is this the name of the ship Shiro + Allura? I'm not sure)
> 
> This started while I was cleaning my prompts folder on my computer and I found an image of a Knight protecting a Queen/Princess and BAM! I was bitten by a plot bunny.  
> http://wlop.deviantart.com/art/Guard-578845362  
> That is the link, in case you are wondering.
> 
> I tried to make this romantic, but I think I end up with melodrama çç  
> Oh, well ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> I kinda imagined a whole saga to this universe, but I already have two on going fanfics and no time for a third (one is a Sheith fanfic and the other is in another fandom).  
> But I probably will make more Shallura in the future.  
> (I kinda like almost all the ships in Voltron, except the ones with Pidge).
> 
> Another thing that motivated me to write this fanfic was to make some Shallura WITHOUT KLANCE!!!!  
> Like, klance is not exactly one of my favourite ships (although it is kinda cute, I prefer sheith), but, frankly, it is really annoying to look for Shallura and only find them as a background pairing to a klance fanfic. Almost like they are desperate to keep Lance main "competitor" ocupied, so Keith is avaliable.  
> And Allura and Shiro deserves better than that. 
> 
> Anyways thank you for reading! I hope you have enjoyed it! Leave a kudo and a comment if you liked this story s2
> 
> Comments help me to write more stuff, you know. So, if you really liked it, comment!
> 
> Bye-bye! o/


End file.
